


time.

by moonjjh



Series: ? inspiration: markmin [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: ...ending fluff?, Alternate Universe - Parents, M/M, Modern Setting, Moon and Sun AU, Morning Routines, POV Child, This needs a prequel, day and night au, moon!mark, subtle angst, sun!jaemin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 09:16:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14329299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonjjh/pseuds/moonjjh
Summary: dalsun has always known what light looked like.





	time.

**Author's Note:**

> warning: i'm not sure if any of this makes sense i literally wrote this in an hour. mark and jaemin's names aren't mentioned until the last paragraph or so but you'll understand who their daughter is talking about through the story...the is kind of like the aftermath of something?  
> mark and jaemin are basically celestial beings in human form, that much is not in depth because its from a childs pov. 
> 
> hope you enjoy if you can even understand♡♡

_rise_

_said the moon_

_and the new day came_

_the show must go on_ _said the sun_

_life does not stop for anybody_

_it drags you by the legs_

_whether you want to move forward or not_

_that is the gift_

_life will force you to forget how you long for them_

_your skin will shed until there is not_

_a single part of you left they’ve untouched_

_your eyes finally just your eyes_

_not the eyes which held them_

_you will make it to the end_

_of what is only the beginning_

_go on_

_open the door to the rest of it._

_time —rupi kaur_

 

dalsun felt she knew a lot of things. she was but a very small child, but she was smart, and perceptive, and she could feel the highs in lows of her heart. she knew of what she was, even at the young age of five, and knew of what he parents were. it was hard to understand, but somehow, in some brilliant way, she understood perfectly.

 

her father was the sun. he was bright, almost blindingly so, and warm. she trapped herself in his embrace every morning, relishing in the heat of his long arms around her, and he would pick her up and carry her off into the kitchen for breakfast, and he would hum. dalsun had never known what it was that he was humming, but it felt warm and bright like he was. and then after breakfast, he would pick her up and help her get dressed for school.

 

she always missed him. locking eyes with his big brown eyes through the mirror as he drove was never enough, even if he would smile his toothy smile at her in hopes to calm her down. his smile was pretty, dalsun thought that everytime he smiled, and even though her nerves would still be on end, she would smile back, knowing it didn’t look like his. her father said it was prettier, that her smile was prettier, but dalsun could never agree. her father's smile felt like sunshine blasting through the clouds after rain.

 

it always felt like a storm when he dropped her off. she was a handful and she knew, but the light in her father's eyes never dimmed as her eyes welled up with tears and he never creased his brow when she stomped on the ground with her foot, adamant on not going. kindergarten was bad, she always told him, but he always shrugged and said he never went before grabbing her hand and walking her inside as he did every morning. dalsun thought he should stay with her to understand how bad it was, and her father had always laughed his beautiful laugh at her and told her he couldn’t.

 

dalsun couldn’t help but think there were so many things he couldn’t do.

 

and in class, after her father had left, she sat in the back of the class on a plastic chair and daydreamed about her father's smile and the smile that didn’t originally belong to her. and her teacher, mrs. kim, checks up on her as she does every morning, and since dalsun has been raised to be polite, she nods her head and gives the old lady a bright ‘good morning’ that she knows will never be as happy sounding as her fathers'.  

 

her father picks her up at three on the dot, the same time everyday. dalsun knows she only smiles when she sees him again, and her father smiles back, opening his arms and closing them tight around her body as she flings herself in his embrace. he’s warm, he’s always warm, and sometimes the heat feels suffocating, like she can’t breathe. but the hug ends just before it feels concerning, just before she panics, and then they head to the car and drive home. it’s always sunny outside, the kind of sunny where she can practically see the heatwaves, and it's even hotter in the car. the a/c is never on, and her father claims it doesn’t work. dalsun doesn’t believe him, but she finds that she doesn’t mind sweating as much as the other kids in her class do.

 

it’s only natural that he gets her ice cream afterschool, dalsun has ceased asking. she doesn’t exactly know why he does it, whether its a ‘thank you’ or a ‘sorry’. at the end of the day, she doesn’t care which of the two it was or wasn’t, because unlike her father, strawberry is her favorite flavor and it's fun to try and force him to eat some. he never does, and never buys any ice cream for himself either, and dalsun always asks why. her father says its because he doesn’t need any. she doesn’t think that's an answer though, because no one truly needs to have ice cream.

 

she leaves it alone. by the time they get home, it’s four.

 

her father helps her with her homework after changing both her and himself into more comfortable clothes. on most days, dalsun is changed to a colorful animal onesie that she drowns in, or shorts and a cotton shirt. today its the latter, and everyday, her father is changed in baggy sweatpants and a cotton shirt that both aren’t his. they don’t smell like him. then as she struggles with her math problems, her father hums, and the sun outside shines through the curtains of the living room.

 

at five, her father starts to make dinner, whatever she wants, or whatever they have in the fridge. he looks tired by then, and his humming starts and ends few and far between until they cease, and the light in his eyes gets dimmer and dimmer until they look like deep, big endless holes of black. dalsun can almost see herself in them, and even though he looks tired, worn out, her father smiles at her and it seems like they whole room has brightened. dalsun sometimes thinks her father is magic.

 

at six o’clock, nearing seven, her father tells her he loves her. he always looks sad and somber when he does at this time, and dalsun always wants to reach out and touch his cheek, to calm him down as he does her. she’s afraid of getting burned, though, because her father is so bright and happy and warm and dalsun feels she’s not enough of that. she’s not bright enough to smile back with her eyes because even though they’re the same, her father's eyes hold stars that hers do not. sometimes it looks like her father is just blinking tears away.

 

then her father kisses her on the forehead, pats her cheeks with soft warm hands, and whispers in her ear, “ _say hi to your dad for me.”_

 

and then he disappears.

 

——

 

her dad was the moon.

 

he was soft but still somehow hard, and cold, but like her father, radiated a light that was softer, easier to get used to. he would show up moments after her father vanished, and then breathed in, and a slow, sad smile would form on his face. it was routine, and her dad would get a lost look in his eye until he caught sight of her. and then he would lean down and press and gentle kiss on her forehead, cold lips against her warm skin, right in the same place her father had done moments before.

 

her dad always greeting her gently, with soft motions and hands and words, asking her how her day was, what did she do, if she’d eaten. the answers differed occasionally, fine, nothing, and no never seemed to be answers enough for him. she always went in depth, even if her days were almost always the same, but he always nodded along, looking at her with gently wide eyes, eyebrows raising from time to time. when she finished, he’d smile, and dalsun would wonder why his smile, her dad's calming, serene smile, always looked so off putting on her own face.

 

dalsun never ate dinner with her father. he’d leave soon after he would finish cooking, and then her dad would come and set the table and they would eat together. the table was usually quiet, because her dad was just as quiet as she was. when he was finished he would sit and wait for her to finish, and by the time dinner was done, the room was cold and outside was dark, the moon glittering from the window. her dad would clean up the plates and the table and then gather her in his arms, and even though it was only eight, they would start to get ready for bed.

 

it was strangely cold at night, though her dad made sure she was dressed in warm clothes as pajamas. he himself didn’t look bothered in his t-shirt, but dalsun had always been too caught up in her own cold to take notice. her dad never slept in the bed with her no matter how much she whined for it, no matter how much she’d go against his excuse that the bed was too small. her dad would laugh, short giggles that raised his shoulders up and down lightly, and then she would laugh too while she stared, because her dad was just as beautiful and bright as her father. dalsun had come to term one day that the were different colors, different lights. different people that should come together to make something more.

 

her dad always told her a story before she fell asleep. whether it was about the stars or venus or mars, her dad has told her, without fail. her favorite story was the sun and moon, because it felt real, sadder, more meaningful. dalsun thinks that maybe it's the tone of voice her dad uses or his facial expression, but he looks a deep kind of sad that she has trouble describing. but eventually, she falls asleep to the lull of her dad’s voice, even if it sounds like a heart breaking.

 

sometimes, dalsun wakes up in the middle of the night. she’s never knew why, but she sees fire and ice and feels both of it. her dad is always there though, rubbing her back and wiping her tears with the palms of his hands. they’re cold, and they soothe the burning in her face from the sweat. and even though she wants to, she never falls asleep in his arms, because his whole presence is gentle and calming but cold, and dalsun feels she might freeze in his grip forever.

 

when she wakes up in the morning, her dad is gone, and her father presses a kiss to her forehead.

 

——

 

it's rare that it happens, but magically, it does.

 

it's the days that the sun is out, and shining, and her father is smiling and bright and dalsun sees warmth. but at the same time, its cold, freezing almost, and there's a chill in the wind that’s blowing as she walks to the car. her father feels it first, always feels everything first, and like he does when this happens, he turns and turns and searches. the moon is still in the sky, faded but clear white, accompanying the sun. for the first time, dalsun feels it first, or hears it, the gentle greeting of her dad. surprisingly, it's not for her.

 

her father is smiling, though there are unshed tears in his crystal brown eyes that make them seem bigger, brighter, warmer. her dad, in turn, smiles back, crisp and clear and belonging, and dalsun wonders what's taking them so long. she wonder why the two lights can’t seem to shine together. but eventually, they both take careful steps to each other until they are running full speed into each other's arms, her dad's arms around her father's waist, her fathers face buried into her dads neck. they’re both crying now, and it's weird to see her dad cry, but somehow still very understanding. and even though dalsun is a few feet away, watching her parents embrace, she can still hear the whispers, the declarations of love.

 

_i missed you._

 

_i love you._

 

_you’re everything to me,_

 

_i wish i could tell you this everyday_

 

“ _mark_ ,” dalsuns father says and her dad looks up and smiles, connecting their lips. dalsun doesn’t have the idea to cringe or be grossed out, because two colors or coming together and she very vaguely realizes that the color being made is her. jaemin looks up, hair golden, eyes bright, and smile warm, and whispers what seems like a million _i love you’s._ mark whispers them back.

 

dalsun has never seen love so blinding.

 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed whatever this mess was! tell me what you think in the comments, should i make a prequel or just leave it as this trash? lol  
> i just wanted to make a markmin au again
> 
>  
> 
> comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!
> 
> tumblr: jaeminsai  
> twitter: ekesang  
> jaemin tumblr: jajajaemins


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